Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-04-03
Il know said Bill. Little girl

OF this. It's time We were down 1T THIS
dance. Half.past IL. It's no more red
hair than---of course 1t is red but it's
the most delightful color. Esthetic,
coppery, sunsctty, Botticelli sort of
shade"
"It's very nice. ! didn't mean, at
ALL"
"And then, to call her little girl ;
OF course she is little, and very young,
hut still"
"That's il" said Bill. as they went
down stairs and got into hanson.
at wasn't out OF disrespectI said that.
But, you see, knew her"
you knew her, did your"
"Not TO speak to. But three or four
years ago, when she was kid in short
dresses, / used TO see her going to
school, when l lived down Brompton
way. She was only little girl with
red hair then"
"Ohl And what did you think OF
her a? Didn't you think there was
something original about her-some-
thing quaint, out Of The common ?
Didn't she strike you as being girl
that would be loved and would love,
with wonderful depth and force of
passion 2"
"I don't think she ever struck me
much at all--except once, with snow
ball. i remember that, because it
damaged new hat l had. If l thought
about her OF all / dare say thought
she was healthy little tomboy who
would have laundering good appe-
tite and give o lot of trouble to who
ever was teaching her the piano and
plain needlework.
"I wish You wouldn't chat, Bill.
I'm in earnest"
$50 am /. I'm not poet, and l
don't begin specializing about what
horse power of love may be boxed up
inside of every schoolgirl of fourteen
meet on the road"
"Well, you're to meet her tonight
at the MayLews'. Miss Mayhem told
me she was expecting her. She was at
school with one of them, think. So
You can renew your acquaintance"
"Don't want to-" said Bill. mot If
she's got to be intense and passionate
and all those other games you were
talking of. / want girl that'll dance
and eat supper"
"Here we are" said John Anthony,
as the cab stopped. "Nowfor it. Come
along"
As they went upstairs the strains of
waltz sounded in the air and stray
couples were wandering into the ball
room from stairs and conservatory.
Bill Rafter, who was enthusiastic about
all manner of athletic sports, made
haste to greet the hostess and seek
partner. He was soon wbirling round
over the polished floor, and John An
thony was left free to search for his
lady love. She WAS not dancing. Many
fair faces fitted by him as he stood in
the doorway OF the ballroom, but hers
was not among them. He tried the
conservatory she was not there. Idly
and without expectation Of finding her
he glanced into a room where many
portly dowagers were gathered in gos-
slipping conclave-and found her. She
was sitting apart from the matronly
senate, her small person nestled up in
a big easy chair. She was not listening
to them. Her blue eyes were stead
tasty fixed on china plate that hung
on the wall opposite to her, and her
little pale, pretty face-paler and more
childish for the overshadowing of the
coils of auburn hair that were drawn
up high on her head, in grown-up
fashion-wore a look of pensive
seriousness. There was something
very touching in the listlessness
of her attitude, in her melan-
choly isolation. She seemed a poor
lonely little waif, strayed by adverse
fate into companionship uncongenial,
unsympathetic. The poets heart
warmed to her with an honest pity.
He was agood fellow at bottom, though
the surface conceit of him made the
interior strata of kindliness hard TO
come at. He went over to her.
"Miss Norbury," he said.
She said nothing, but held out her
hand to him with a smile that said
palmer than words she was glad he had
come.
"You were looking rather stupid.
81 know. j am stupid, rather" she
said, submissively.
81 mean, of course. bored, you
know. Tired"
"Well, 1 am bored good deal. At
least-I was," with a morsel of sud-
den glance.
He drew a chair by her and sat down.
81 could guess what you were think
ing of when / came in. Not of that
plate you were looking at"
"No; not of that plate"
"About these old women, wasn't
it?" said he, duplicating somewhat ir-
reverently the respectable matrons in
his vicinity. "The eternal tiddle-fad-
die they keep up about their servants
and bonnets and children q? About how
tiresome it must be to have grown old
and fat, and to have lost all SAVIOR of
life save what may be in such triviah-
ties?"
eyes. Partly that" she said, witha
curious little grimace, that was half sor-
rowful and half laughing. "Partly Of
other things"
"Tcll me, will you? What things ?"
"No. / couldn't exactly tell you.
But want you to tell me something
a whole heap of things-abOut Law. ="
about Law ?" he said smiling.
"Yes. About Law" She said it
emphatically, hating little before it,
and letting it slip out between her
pursed-up lips with a childish impress
siyeness. "About deeds, and wills,
and parchment, and entails. And about
mysterious boxes, with old papers shut
up in them that settle how great estates
are to go. And about wigs-why bar
risters wear them, and why you don't. y
He laughed. sis that all?" he said.
'Oh, no. But that will do to begin
with. You can go on then to tell me
how you work i'll your offices, and
whether the-the clients have to sit
down outside a partition and the clerks
look over it and make fun of them, as
they did to Mr.. Pickwick. And a lot
of things"
The poet was not quite sure whether
she was making fun OF him or not.
There was winning earnestness in her
fashion OF speech, and an almost pa
thetic seriousness in the blue eyes that
met his SO calmly. But he had seen
her act, and had noticed a similar in
tense gravity under the most ludicrous
circumstances.
II 4.